Amateur Night
by lawless
Summary: An up-and-coming streetfighter is advised by a match-fixer to throw a bout. When he not only refuses but also gives the reigning champion of the underground streetfighting games the beating of his life, he barely escapes with his life and soon finds himself on the run from both the match-fixer and his yakuza goons.
1. Chapter 1

**Amateur Night**

_By lawless_

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DISCLAIMER: RK not mine.

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Outside was eerily quiet. Only the distant sound of traffic and a neighbor's dog barking down the street could be heard. Since the fire exit down the hallway outside was out of the question, they would have to find another way out.

Sagara Sanosuke closed the door silently and looked around the tiny one-room apartment. He spotted the glass windows that led to a small balcony filled with potted plants. Figuring that the next adjoining rooms had the same feature, he crossed the room in a rush and went out through the windows. He took a moment to study his surroundings and confirm his belief about the apartment complex having window gardens.

The air outside was cold. The streetlamps provided only minimum lighting. That was a good thing for what he had planned. He could see several cars parked at designated lots. Their pursuers arrived in their own vehicles, he knew. They would probably have a driver on stand-by just in case. That was good, too. He soon turned back and offered a hand out to his companion.

Footsteps. Their pursuers were moving up the stairs.

"We'll have to jump over to the other side," Sanosuke told Megumi.

"What?" She stared at the window garden of the next apartment unit. It was at least five feet away. "Are you crazy? No." She shrank away from his proffered hand.

"Yes," he insisted. "I'll go first. Then, you jump. I'll catch you."

Somewhere behind them, a door was being forced open. There was a scream from one of the tenants and then a harsh shout. The muffled sound of a blunt object hitting something soft. More footsteps.

Sano was raising himself up on the iron railings. He swung his arm back and forth before he leapt and caught the rails on the other side with both hands. For a moment, he hung suspended some twenty feet above the ground. Then, he pulled himself up easily and made it safely on the window garden, stepping on some potted plants along the way.

Next was Megumi. She stared nervously at the ground and sure death if she missed.

"Come on," Sano said, holding out his arms.

Reluctantly, she stood up on trembling legs.

"Don't look down," he advised.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's going to fall to their death or a lifetime of disability," she muttered as she assumed the best position to make a huge leap. "If my underwear turns you on, that's your problem."

And then she jumped.

Sano caught her, issuing a grunt as soon as he felt her weight tug at his arms. One of her hands started to slip out of his. Megumi let out a tiny scream.

"I got you," he said through gritted teeth. Using his legs to anchor himself, he slowly pulled her up.

"Oh god, I'm going to die," Megumi kept whispering as she tried to get a foothold. The high heels made it difficult.

"Shut up. You're okay," he told her in a harsh tone. "Put your right foot over there," he said indicating the protruding water pipe in the corner.

Megumi did as told. She heard a ripping sound. There went her favorite mini-skirt. Without giving this a single thought, she pushed herself up, using the water pipe as leverage, at the same time that Sano pulled. The ordeal lasted for about a minute. Afterward, Megumi sat awkwardly on the railing with Sano standing between her legs, facing her, his hands still around her waist. They took a moment to catch their breaths, steady their pulse rates.

Then, Sano looked up, grinning. "I never figured you for white lace."

Megumi merely glared down at him and said, "Oh, shut up."

In a moment, he helped her down and then turned to the next window garden. "Hold on. We're not done yet." They still had five more window gardens to navigate before they were home-free.

Megumi followed the direction of his gaze and made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a grunt. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Alright," Sano just said, ignoring her comment. "Same ol' same ol.' Try not to make a sound this time, doctor lady."

By the time they reached the fourth one, the whole thing had become almost routine and Megumi felt like there was not much difference between her and a monkey expertly swinging from tree to tree. Sano jimmied the lock on the windows of the fifth apartment and cautiously climbed inside.

The room was deserted. But that didn't mean it would be for long. He glanced back at Megumi and mouthed for her to follow him. She did, gingerly sidestepping the empty beer cans and instant noodle cups on the floor. Sano was standing next to the door, holding a baseball bat that he found near the nightstand. He motioned for her to stay behind cover as he carefully opened the door just a crack.

The first thing he saw was an overwhelming array of bright colors – tracksuits. Fudosawa's men. They were in the process of breaking open the door to the farthest room where he and Megumi just came from. There were two stairways: one on the far side of the hallway where their pursuers were standing and the other was just a few steps away from the room they just busted.

"We can make a run for it," Sano said, turning to Megumi. Then, he looked down at her feet. Particularly the pair of shoes she was wearing. "Take those off," he ordered.

"But they're Prada," she protested.

"For god's sake," he started.

"Fine, dammit!" She whispered harshly as she took off first one shoe and then the other. But instead of completely discarding them, she held them close to her chest.

Sano rolled his eyes, and then told her to run on his mark.

"One."

Fudosawa's men finally succeeded in breaking the door open.

"Two."

They started filing inside the room one by one.

"Three."

As soon as the last one disappeared inside, Sano pushed the door wide open and stepped out.

"They're not in here!" One of Fudosawa's men shouted. "Check outside!"

Sano grabbed Megumi's arm, whispering lowly, "Run."

One of the men spotted them, running through the hallway. "There they are! After them!"

The whole thing went by in a blur.

Megumi went stumbling along, conscious only of Sano's back before her and Fudosawa's men behind them. Her knees were water. She felt faint, a looseness to the bowels. She was certain her brain was detached from her body. She did what she was told, allowed herself to be herded down the stairwell, pulled, pushed into a corner as Sano rushed the unarmed driver of their pursuers' car with the baseball bat. She didn't stop until they were both in the car.

And then, it all happened at once. No sequence. One minute, Sano was backing the car up, bumping into some garbage bins sitting at curbside. And then the next instant, he was shouting for her to "Get down!"

A shot rang out. Megumi ducked as Sano stepped on the gas and accelerated. The inertia forced her back against her seat. She looked up then and saw a lone man, wearing a shiny, shark-skin suit, calmly kneeling down. He was holding something up in front of him. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw that the black thing was actually a gun and it was pointed straight at her.

Sano reached across and forced her head down at the same time he made a sharp left with the car. Megumi covered her ears as shots were fired, shattering the windshield and showering them both with broken glass. Now there were yells, shouts. Pedestrians scattering on the street in panic. Squeel of breaks as cars pulled up, drivers ducking down out of sight. There was a great blaring of horns, a momentary traffic jam at the corner, then more screams and shrieked curses.

Sano never eased down on the accelerator and kept his eyes straight on the road. Megumi looked back. She saw more of their pursuers emerge from the hotel. She thought she saw two cars pull up but Sano made another quick turn, disappearing out of sight. He did not let up on their speed even as they ended up in Tokyo's winding backstreets, and Megumi was secretly relieved. Never mind if he was driving like a maniac.

It was only when they emerged out of the city's general hubbub into a quieter neighborhood that Megumi began to think they might actually make it.

"You hurt?" Sano asked.

"I'm fine," she answered. "You?"

He breathed sharply through his teeth. "The son of a bitch got me."

"What?" She said in alarm, glancing at him. She immediately saw the dark stain on his left shoulder where a bullet had gone through.

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_1. Gunshots and Prada_

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**AN** Hey! New fic. As always, read and review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Amateur Night**

_By lawless_

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DISCLAIMER: RK not mine.

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**_- twenty-three hours earlier -_**

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The crowd was getting louder. Inside the locker room, Sagara Sanosuke was warming up by himself, trying to stay focused when there was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said, without turning.

"Time for your pre-bout check-up," said someone, and he glanced over. The pretty, dark-haired ring physician walked in.

Takani Megumi walked with the easy, gliding step of a runway model. She certainly had the height for it. Tonight, she was rocking a tight, black skirt, back-seamed stockings and stilettos. Bright red lipstick and hair sleeked back in a tight bun completed the look. All she needed now was black-rimmed glasses, but Sano wasn't complaining as he felt his mouth go dry. (The first time he saw her, he'd nearly tripped on his own feet. Thank god, no one seemed to have noticed – everyone's eyes had been on her. He'd since acquired better motor skills in her presence.)

"Hey, doc," Sano greeted, grabbing a towel from his locker. He wiped his face with it, then threw on a thin, white vanity robe over his shoulders.

"Ready when you are," she only said, taking this moment to put her black, physician's pouch on the bench next him. As she leaned in, he caught a whiff of her perfume: a wild, intensive fusion of rose and honey blended with a hint of sandalwood.

"How's the crowd outside?" He asked by way of a conversation.

"As usual," she answered. "Loud. Wild. On speed, most likely. Security already threw out five of them for causing a brawl."

Sano grinned. "Sounds like my kind of crowd."

"You're an idiot."

Despite himself, he felt annoyed and showed it, which was counterproductive because this was Megumi. Her mouth curved into a mocking smile, but instead of saying anything, she merely handed him a plastic cup with cover and told him to do the usual.

The usual meant peeing into the tiny cup from behind closed doors of the small toilet found at the back of the locker room. It shouldn't be that easy. It should've been _embarrassing_, was what he meant. But he'd done this for her many times, more than he could count, and really, it wasn't as if she cared. She was a doctor. Occupational hazard, he guessed. She was used to it the way she was used to guys – prizefighters like Sano – coming on to her. While not entirely indifferent to their advances (in fact, she purposely seemed to incite it sometimes), she'd gotten really good at deflecting them. It was a running gag with all the boys around the ring how and when she would skillfully and swiftly put down some poor, besotted fool who made the unfortunate mistake of thinking that she was ever serious in her flirtations.

All except Sano. Although he never had a high opinion of the fool, he never joined in the others' jeering either.

"Well, that was fast," she commented when he came back a bare minute later. Her lips curved up. "Were you holding out for me?"

"You wish," he only said, handing her the cup.

Megumi made a scoffing noise as she took the cup with gloved hands. Placing it on the small table in front of her, she opened a fresh packet of strips from her pouch and prepared to administer the test.

The urine test was qualitative; it would only give a positive or negative result but would not indicate the level of drugs or alcohol in Sano's system. He knew this because once, Megumi launched into a lengthy and detailed explanation of the whole thing for the sole purpose of aggravating the shit out of him. It worked, but it did take his mind off the things that were bothering him at the time.

While they waited for the results – it usually ran anywhere from five to ten minutes – Sano studied Megumi's face, finally observing, "You look tired."

The unwarranted statement broke the brief lull that had settled over them. Even though the majority of their interactions together consisted of ribbing each other until one or the other finally got irritated enough to end the conversation right there, sometimes they said things like this. So when Megumi did not exhibit surprise at the comment, it was normal.

She slid her gaze to his and gave something like a genuine smile. "Haven't been sleeping well."

"Something bothering you?" He asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

She adopted his blasé attitude and leaned her head back to rest against the metal doors of the lockers. "Hm," she only said. After a moment, she returned the favor by asking, "What about you? Nervous about the fight?"

The fight wasn't until an hour.

"No," Sano said. Even though he was coming into the ring a virtual amateur, and therefore the underdog, he was pretty confident he could win. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in momentum. All of his matches – all eleven of them, spread out over a two-year period, leading up to the championship had been knock-outs.

When Sano came into the street-fighting scene about three years ago, he was completely unknown. Swiftly but steadily, he'd built a reputation for himself, taking down good fighters one after the other until he became someone worthy enough to challenge for the belt. It wasn't going to be easy, that much he knew. The reigning champion, Shikijou, was a big, hulking man who'd seen more matches than Sano had in terms of years. He was also taller than Sano, with a longer reach, heavier muscles and a positively brutal face. In contrast, Sano was lean (almost too lean) and looked fresh-faced despite the beard he was trying to grow.

"Okay, maybe a little," he later gave in, slanting Megumi a goofy grin.

She arched an eyebrow. "You know it's not too late to back out," she suggested.

Sano started to believe that she might actually be concerned for him when he noticed the smirk just lurking in the corners of her lips. "How much did you put down on the betting pool against me?" He asked, more sharply than he intended.

"I don't know what you're talking about." But she couldn't keep a straight face and a moment later, she was covering her mouth and issuing out a high, throaty laugh.

Sano was naturally touchy, or it would not have bothered him so much. It was, after all, the rule to place bets on the outcome of the matches. See, it wasn't so much the street-fighting that brought a crowd; it was the gambling involved. It was the gambling that brought in the bigwigs – those shady kinds of people who brought in the money, which made the world in which Sano thrived go round. Even he was no stranger to that. Still, he was mildly upset that she'd fake concern for him just to get him to forfeit a bout.

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?" When he didn't respond but continued to sit there with a stony face, she laughingly held out a hand to him in conciliation. "Sorry," she said, not sorry at all.

He gave the hand she offered a spiteful squeeze. "I wouldn't put it passed you," he softly accused.

She met his gaze. "Fine," she said, sighing wearily. "I did place a bet, but I placed it on you so you have no reason to be upset."

He narrowed his eyes at her dubiously. But before he could say anything, there was a beeping sound and Megumi checked the test kit; the results were clean. "I could've told you that," he muttered.

Megumi returned the kit to its box and threw away the used strips. She put everything back to her pouch and then she stood up. "Well, I'm done here." She was on her way to the door when she turned back at the last minute, her face serious. "Listen, Sano," she started and Sano glanced up, detecting something in her tone

At that moment, the door to the locker room banged open and in came a man in a light, pin-striped suit, a red tie and white, pointed shoes. Although dressed impeccably, there was something sleazy about his character. He was flanked on each side by two men – one small with pointy features, the other a large tub of lard.

"Sano, my boy, how's it going?" The man greeted, spreading his mouth in a wide, social smile, revealing a row of thin, yellowing teeth.

Sano recognized Takeda Kanryuu immediately. He was the money. Hustler, really, but no one was nit-picking. Although not a gang-member himself, he was well-oiled enough to be able to afford a small troop of bodyguards who did his every bidding. Takeda ran this joint, along with other business establishments of varying shades of legality. And being that, he of course knew Megumi.

He turned to her now, still smiling and speaking in that egregious voice of his. "Megumi, I see you're still here. Didn't think the test would take that long. Should I be jealous?" He asked coyly.

Ignoring the insinuation, Megumi stepped over to him, laying a hand on his chest in a way that made Sano stare at her wonderingly. "Kanryuu, please," she spoke low and fast, trying to draw him aside. "Can I talk to you outside?"

"About what, my dear?" Takeda said over-loudly. "About last night?" At Megumi's stricken look, his smile widened. "Well, surely it's an open secret by now how you sometimes have this…_itch_ down below that good, ol' Kanryuu scratches for you. Don't be shy now. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Isn't that right, boys?" He turned expectantly to his bodyguards – Besshimi and Hyottoko, Sano remembered their names.

Behind him, Sano could hear the sniggers from the two bodyguards. He ignored them and instead stared at Megumi, willing her to look at him and confirm what Takeda was saying. But she kept her head down, whether in shame or anger, he didn't know. Her fists were clenched so tight, the knuckles were turning white.

Sano felt bile rise up in his throat. He'd heard the rumors, of course – how Megumi had some kind of _arrangement_ with the boss man. He didn't believe it because what would she be doing with a man like that? And suddenly, it occurred to him: money. Viewed from those lenses, things started clicking into place. How she could afford an apartment in a plush neighborhood, how all her clothes were designer-made, how Takeda was never far behind whenever she was around, how his own bodyguards sometimes accompanied her, how that one guy whom Megumi was especially sweet on was found one morning, his kneecaps busted.

Sano was never one to judge people on their choices. He was not going to start now. But if he were completely honest, he wouldn't ascribe the heaviness that tugged at his chest to mere disappointment. He sent a glare in Takeda's direction and barked a question: "What do you want?"

It was not the sort of attitude that Takeda was used to. Certainly, not from a prizefighter. He stared at Sano, clearly dumbfounded. "I see you've got a lot of fight in you," he said after some length. "I guess, what people say about you is true." He slowly circled Sano, looking him up and down. When he spoke again, it was with great affectation, "A _pity_."

"Please, Takeda-san," Megumi tried again, this time using a more formal address.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch! No one asked for your opinion!" Takeda suddenly shouted. He signaled at his men and in an instant, Besshimi had Megumi by the arm, twisting it up to the middle of her back. She let out a pained yelp, which had Sano charging up but he was grabbed by the neck by Hyottoko who took him by surprise.

Next thing Sano knew, he was face down on the ground, the big man kneeling on both his legs so he couldn't move and pulling his arms back and twisting hard. The pain brought tears to his eyes.

A visibly rattled Takeda tugged at his collar and fixed his tie. Then he took out an immaculate white handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiped his face with it, before he smiled, his eyes black with rage. The effect was hideous.

Sano was filled with fury. He tried to struggle but that only earned him a punch in the kidneys and a threat from the big man to break his arms.

"No, there's no need for that," Takeda said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Gone was the oily smile, replaced by a face mottled and twisted with anger. "At least, not yet." He took a deep, calming breath, then stepped over to put a foot against Sano's exposed cheek.

Sano struggled even more, shouting curses up at him.

Takeda increased the pressure until he stopped struggling. Then, he bowed really low and shouted right into his ears: "HOW DARE YOU BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS YOU, DOG?! WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO RAISE A HAND AGAINST ME?! I _AM_ YOUR GOD!" Clearly excited now, Takeda was about to start really hurting Sano, as evidenced by his raised fists, when Besshimi reminded him that they weren't supposed to leave a mark.

Takeda froze and looked around him. Sano was staring up at him with defiance. Megumi had raised her hands up to her mouth, her eyes glassy. His bodyguards, however, were strangely devoid of expression. Takeda flipped his hair back and took a moment to compose himself. He straightened his clothes again (it seemed to be a compulsive habit of his), cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was without inflection. "You _will_ throw this bout, _dog_. Or I'll throw it for you," he threatened, adding maliciously, "You will go down like I tell you or Hyottoko here will break one rib for every round you remain standing. Isn't that right, Hyottoko?"

"Right, boss," the big man said.

"As for you, my pet," Takeda continued, glancing now at Megumi whose cheeks were white as sheets, "we're going to have a long conversation." He glanced down at Sano. There was a pregnant pause; a muscle on his cheek spasmed. Then, without another word, he turned around and stalked out of the locker room.

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_2. Séduction et une menace_

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**AN** Okay so this is turning out to be an actual story. I guess I need to explain the first chapter. I made that part the beginning of the story because I wanted to just plunge in into the action and then, maybe, if I feel like it, thread the plot in later. As you can see, and probably read from the summary, this is how everything began. I am going to alternate between the present timeline (from Chapter 1) and to the events that led up to it. I will write indicators so you won't get lost trying to follow the story.

Thank you so much for reading. It means a lot to me. Special thanks to **Akanke, WaterInk, Nuingarien, Nyak**o and **caseyedith** for taking the time to review. I hope not to disappoint with this update.


	3. Chapter 3

**Amateur Night**

_By lawless_

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DISCLAIMER: RK not mine.

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The bleeding wouldn't stop. Megumi told him to apply more pressure over the wound but it was a little difficult to do that with only one hand. "We've got to get you to a hospital," she suggested, glancing at him worriedly.

"No," Sano quickly put down the idea. That was the last thing they needed. The staff at the hospital would be obligated to report a gunshot wound and that would mean cops, and Sano was really not up for another run-in with the authorities. "No hospitals," he repeated through gritted teeth.

They spied a drugstore in the corner and with a little maneuvering Sano parked the car in a dark alley lined with trash bins that had become home to a number of stray cats. "We better ditch the car," he said. But as soon as he took that first step out of the vehicle, he felt his world make a three hundred and sixty turn.

Megumi grabbed him before he fell. Her face was so close to his, her irises looked huge. She was saying something. "…you've lost too much blood…. Gotta get that wound fixed…." And then, she was half-dragging, half-carrying him out of that alley.

The people in the street weren't in the least bit curious about them. It was one of the busiest areas in Tokyo and people coming from or going to work battled for space in the sidewalk with hawkers and promo girls. The two of them were just another drunk, young couple looking for a sexy nighttime hookup in the many love hotels nearby.

And a love hotel was exactly where Megumi brought Sano, and then they were standing there at the lobby with the tinted front doors behind them, waiting for the vending machine to give them their key. It was almost twelve midnight and most of the rooms were occupied. The only room left was the 'Hello Kitty' room, which – Sano laughed. Even Megumi had to bite her lip at the unintentional humor.

Once they were inside the room, there was no time to examine their surroundings. Sano lied down on the Hello Kitty bed with the ribbon-shaped headboard, shallow of breath and in a haze of pain. He was spiraling down to unconsciousness until Megumi slapped him back to wakefulness.

"Sano, listen to me," she said, her tone urgent though her face remained a mask. She was hovering just above him, mere inches away, so close he could see the beads of sweat forming a line above her lips. He had the strangest urge to lick them dry. Strange, because he could well be on his way to dying. Even in this moment of extreme stress, he still found the doctor incredibly attractive.

She was speaking to him as though he were a child, "I need you to keep pressure over your wound to slow the bleeding until I come back. Can you manage?"

"You're leaving?" He gasped. Megumi had already grabbed one of his hands to place it above the torn remains of his shirt over the open wound on his chest area. His hand felt sticky and warm from his own blood.

"I'll be back before you know it," Megumi said in response, reaching for her handbag beside Sano's head. "I'm just going to the drug store we passed earlier to get supplies. Wait for me, you hear?"

Sano gazed at her feverishly, swallowed and started to open his mouth. "Doc, I need to tell you something…." Whatever it was he wanted to say was muffled by soft lips suddenly covering his. The kiss was, as kisses went, horrible; it was cold and precise and tasted like the metallic tang of a stethoscope pressed on bare skin. When it was over, Sano stared at her in stupefaction.

"Don't you dare die on me, Sano," she whispered, and then she left.

Sano lost awareness of how long she was gone. He was weaving in and out of consciousness and he'd lost count of time. In the back of his mind, he knew it couldn't have been more than a few minutes but it felt like hours before she finally came back. His relief at the sight of her standing in the doorway was physical. He was glad for the low lighting the room provided to mimic the atmosphere of romance; she didn't see his expression as she came in.

Megumi had with her a small plastic bag filled with fresh bandages, a bottle of antiseptic, syringe, a spool of thread, some water, a pair of large tweezers and a pocket knife. After raising a barely conscious Sano to an upright position, she immediately got down to business. She cleaned the wound as best as she could to better survey the damage. She'd already figured that the bullet missed his lung and now she saw that it was lodged somewhere below his clavicle, mere inches from his heart. With penlight between her teeth, Megumi made a small diagonal cut across the wound with the pocket knife and extracted the bullet with the pair of large tweezers. There was no anesthesia. Needless to say, Sano was in agony until he finally, mercifully fainted near the end of the ordeal. Megumi stitched him back together with seamless concentration.

The entire procedure lasted half an hour. The patient slept for another half hour before being rudely roused with two quick, successive slaps to the cheek. "Wake up, we have to go," Megumi barked lowly.

The night was long. It was still dark when two figures, looking the worse for wear, emerged from that love hotel a block away from the drug store. One of them was apparently nursing a terrible hangover, the way he was barely hanging on to his female companion, whose skirt was torn at one side. It must have been quite the night for this particular couple. They appeared to hesitate, looking up and down the street. The few stragglers left from the night before paid them no mind. After a moment, they started walking east towards the nearest train station.

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_3. Doctor, doctor, I am sick._

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**AN **Hello! I know this update took so long and my excuse is the usual: busy with real life stuff. Sorry but these things are unavoidable. But I've stumbled upon a bit of free time lately so I was able to work on a couple of chapters for this story so expect another new chapter some time next week. As always, thank you for reading this humble fic of mine. Don't forget to comment or review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Amateur Night**

_By lawless_

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DISCLAIMER: RK not mine.

* * *

Shikijou put out a hand and slammed it hard against Sano's chest to stop him. In a split second, Sano twisted his right shoulder into Shikijou's arm, blocking the blow, and twisted back to crash the heel of his palm against the tender space just below the nose of the big man. Shikijou bellowed in a rage as his two front teeth were cracked at the roots. Both hands went to his face to try to hold back the pain. Sano's momentum had turned him sideways to Shikijou, but he quickly spun back to face him, smashing both hands into the man's chest and shoved him into the metal bars behind them. The impact pushed the wind out of the big man's lungs, and he sagged against the makeshift cage.

Sano savagely kicked the man's feet from under him, and he went down hard on his tail bone. Shikijou's head pitched forward and before he could raise it up, Sano grabbed the man's lower lip with his right hand and pushed his head back hard against the metal bars with his left. Sano let out an angry snarl.

The crowd out in the arena was seething. Fueled by adrenaline, they began to chant in unison, "Go, go, go, go…."

Sano was used to the noise by now. He let the energy flow through him as the crowd worked themselves up to a fever pitch. Shikijou grabbed Sano's wrist to hold him so he couldn't tear his lip off. Tears of pain and defiance gathered in his eyes. He bared his teeth, showing the bloody gap where his two front teeth should have been, and hissed at Sano, reminding him of the deal.

The big man's words were drowned out by the crowd's shout for blood but Sano remembered. Through the haze of red that clouded his vision, he saw Takeda Kanryuu past the metal bars that caged the two fighters in, past the flailing arms of the increasingly wild crowd, and remembered to be afraid. Takeda could do anything to him: break his ribs like he threatened, leave him for dead in a ditch somewhere, and no one would even think to question. But the thing Sano was most afraid of, even more than dying itself, was pity. If, in his cruelty, Takeda allowed him to survive, it would be the height of misery. Sano had seen these men, these so-called survivors, helpless, broken, bone-tired of living, just waiting to die. Takeda and his _yakuza_ friends could do that to a man.

_'It's not too late to back out.'_ Megumi's words came rushing back to him, followed by Takeda's stilted instructions: _'Go down on the fourth round.'_

Sano paused in his movements, staring down at his opponent. He sensed a stirring from the corners of his eyes. Takeda Kanryuu, seated in the VIP section, was gesturing something. Sano turned his head slightly to look. Takeda was holding his fisted right hand against his knee, thumb extended and pointed downwards.

Sano recognized the signal; he was going to fall. Defeat was a bile taste in his mouth. He swept his gaze around the watching arena for the last time, searching and finding Megumi, in her usual seat, her slender frame nearly dwarfed by the tub of lard that was Hyottoko shadowing her from behind. Their eyes connected for the briefest of seconds; it was long enough for Sano to change his mind.

He refused to fall.

Sano looked down at his opponent and saw that he was trying to say something. He loosened his grip slightly, but it was a mistake. The pain and the rage turned Shikijou into a formidable foe. Sano was straddling him as he sat against the metal bars and the big man had worked up enough leverage to kick his shin up into Sano's groin. Sano managed to half-block the kick, avoiding contact in that extremely vulnerable body part, and Shikijou connected with the side of his right knee instead. The pain was instant and debilitating. Sano's knee crumbled under him and he almost fell to the floor.

The crowd jeered.

Shikijou swung a wild roundhouse blow with his right hand and caught Sano on the side of his head. Sano was knocked away from him, but Shikijou paid the price because Sano kept most of his grip on the big man's lip. The skin at the right corner of his mouth split apart, tearing a gash in his cheek almost three inches long.

The blow shoved Sano down and away, but Shikijou was hurting too much to get on his feet before Sano did. Sano had just enough time to clear his head before Shikijou got into a crouch and charged at him with the intention of slamming him into the metal bars. Instead of trying to block the attack, Sano stepped to one side and used all his strength to grab the back of Shikijou's thick neck and shove him in the same direction he was charging.

The combined force of Sano's shove and his own rush toward Sano sent the big man into one side of the metal cage with the force of a car accident. He smashed his left hand trying to block his impact, broke his cheekbone, and cracked three vertebrae in his neck he slid down to the floor in an unconscious heap.

The flashpoint had passed. The crowd dropped into a stunned silence. Sano staggered back two steps from the fallen warrior. His left ear rang from Shikijou's blow; his right knee throbbed with pain. He tested his knee and found that it supported his weight and moved normally. He flexed his hand. It was hard to open and close, but nothing was damaged. He took a deep breath and felt a wave of utter exhaustion wash over him as the adrenaline began to wear off.

The referee was mouthing words at him. He nodded he understood even as he whipped his gaze around, past the cheering crowd, to that spot in the VIP section. Megumi's seat was empty. He searched for her in the crowd but all he saw was Takeda Kanryuu standing in a rigid stance, talking to an imposing figure dressed in a shiny, shark-skin suit.

The referee grabbed Sano's hand and raised it above their heads, declaring him the winner and new champion. His victory complete, it was time to outwit fate. Already he spied Takeda's bodyguards moving to intercept Sano on his way to his room. His fans were crowding around him, patting him on his back, asking for his autograph, unintentionally providing a nearly impenetrable human shield between Sano and his would-be assailants.

Sano had just closed the door behind him and slammed the lock home when he realized he wasn't alone in his locker room. Standing by the window was a pale-faced, panic-stricken Megumi, clutching a huge handbag to her chest.

"Megumi?" He had to ask because her presence there was totally unexpected and her very obvious anxiety was compounding his.

"What are you doing here?" She half-whispered.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You have to go. He's coming after you. You can't stay here."

Realization hit Sano like a blow to the head. Megumi had known about the rigged match, about Takeda's deal with Fudosawa, and had tried to warn him, even made a vain attempt to have him forfeit the match all together. This realization was quickly followed by another: even if Sano had gone ahead with Takeda's game plan, he would still have ended that match in a gurney – at best, dead; at worst, paralyzed. Takeda rarely left loose ends untied.

Without another word, Sano started shoving his things into his gym bag. There was no time to cut the bindings in his hands. He stared at the door, silently eliminating it as an exit. Hyottoko and Besshimi and possibly Fudosawa's men would be waiting out there for him. He needed another way out. He spied the window but his room was three stories up. He looked out anyway and found the fire exit stairway just a few feet away to his right.

Before he stepped over the ledge, he docked his head back to glance at Megumi, taking in her entire appearance, the way her hair framed her face and accentuated the elegance of bone and skin, the flash of her eyes beneath sooty lashes, her lips curved in that permanent smirk. He wondered what would happen to her, if this would be the last time he'd see her, then seemingly without volition he found himself saying, "Come with me."

Megumi's eyes widened briefly with something that bordered on hope before being dashed so quickly Sano thought his brain was playing tricks on him. After an infinitesimal moment, she spoke:

"I can't."

* * *

_4. It's all going down._

* * *

**AN **Here it is. Enjoy.


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